Alastair-Personal Narrative

She critically describes the country and its society as being a bad place through her use of constant personification, and she talks in a monolog to the country, almost as if it were a person: “You big awful.” She expresses her disappointment with how she was treated when she first arrived – “When I came this woman gave me a box of biscuits. You try to be friendly but you´re not very friendly.”

It was late one day in June, and the sky was as blue and clear as sparkling wine. I sat back in my hammock reading the book Unbroken enjoying myself, and my uncle came up and asked me if I wanted to play poker with him, 5$ buy in. I jumped at the idea finished my page and went inside the house. Poker is a pretty big thing in my family and I’ve grown up playing and my uncle was one of the best, so spending time with him playing poker is always one of my favorite things to do. We proceed to set up the table, “Texas Holdem“ he says, Jacks to open”. Nothing weird, so we get the game going and the pots getting pretty big when all of the sudden he drops his cards. I stare the cards dead in the eye and see that i'm going to surpass him! He looks

"She did not take the broad, beaten road which led to the far-off plantation at Valmonde. She walked across a deserted field, where the stubble bruised her tender feet, so delicately shod, and tore her thin gown to shreds. She disappeared among the reeds and willows that grew thick along the banks of the deep, sluggish

“Her language, as I hear it, vivid, direct, full of observation and imagery. That was the language that helped shape the way I saw things, expressed things, made sense of the world” (7). The author talked about her personal experiences with the different kinds of English. She talked about how her

He waited until the night’s 11th hour. By now the Princess rested in the highest tower of the castle, locked away from the dangerous world, yet so oblivious to the dangers that which fated the rest of her life. Silently the peasant journeyed outside, where he stopped at the wall of the tower where she lay. He watched her in the darkness from below, lifting his face to her, letting the light rest on his every surface of darkness. The night was cloudless. The winds wailed between the motionless oak trees as its thin branches clawed out, ever so slightly disturbing the leaves with its hostile screeches. Not the thick moss of the trees nor the damp leaves squirming in his toes could distract the peasant from so enticing a scent. All that encircled him was the sweetness of lavender and rosewood, filling his entire being as he sunk into the grass, like sand washed over by the water, with every breeze passing

She comes across (…) even when she opens her mouth and you don't know if she's a hillbilly or an Okie or what. My guess, nobody'll ever know where she came from. She's such a goddamn liar, maybe she don't know herself any more. (...)To smooth out that accent (...) we gave her French lessons: after she could imitate French, it wasn't so long she could imitate

The form of a young woman now stood before her, garbed in a diaphanous gown of flowing reds, golds, blues and greens, and close enough to touch. She walked gracefully in darkness, each footstep alighting an invisible path that Ashe could not

She drifted. A wisp of vapor, soaring against an unknown breeze. She closed her jade stained eyes, taking in a deep breath, inhaling her deepest desire. She neither lived, nor settled a life in this particular place, but it was where her soul was currently bound to. Don't forget about the jade stained eyed girl, she is crucial to the story.

She whipped her eyes towards him, but suddenly lurched and fell to the ground. The world slowed, she felt something warm and sticky pool around her. She had managed to turn her head in his direction, only then seeing the enemy army that had caught up with them. One knight savaged her son with his sword and then discarded his body. She tried to reach him, but a spear protruding from her back weighed her down. Then she saw us again, watched as the way the enemy avoided us . She felt cold, knowing her time had come , she looked right in my eyes as her life thread was cut. The end frayed as her body slumped to the ground, but it didn’t matter. She was one insignificant life that we had

Alan Brito is a friend of mine from childhood. When we were young, he and I, along with a bunch of other kids from my neighborhood, used to play tops, marbles and “twenty-one”. We had a top contest in which those who could spin the top in the air with the string, pull it back and place it on top of the palm of their hand, was the winner. At the risk of sounding pretentious, I was almost always the winner. For that reason, they nicknamed me “Toppy”. Two of my other friends, Gilly and Billy were rivals. They were very good at playing “twenty-one.” They were unbeatable. Every time we played together they beat me. I was always afraid of playing against them, because I was quite sure that by the end of the game, I would be left with no money in my pockets. In time, Gilly and Billy got married and left the country. They moved to Saint Maurice, a small paradisiac island in the Pacific Ocean.

I groaned and slowly sat up, it was still dark..I looked around and saw the boys still sleeping. I heard whimpering form the baby monitor. I walked towards Justin's nursery and opened it. Justin was awake, He was sucking his pacifier and had his blanket in his hand. Tears literally covered his face, and snot was running down like rivers

I noticed it was getting harder to finish assembling my gun; I was losing the outside light. The sun was already setting, even though it was just after three. I remembered when I had gone to Middle School, during winter, of having to walk through Arkham's icy atmosphere instead relaxing in the warm luxury of riding in the car, which we'd sold to defray, in part, another of the old man's expeditions, this time to Nepal in search of the legendary Plateau of Leng. Such dangerous destinations meant nothing to me at the tender age of thirteen, of course, except in that I could no longer bask in the warmth of the Nexus's heater.The Eastern horizon would be barely beginning to lighten by the time I reached the gate. I got home just after

Dear diary, currently was a very fascinating day, as customary I stirred with relate degree astoundingly thickening torment on my knee, and it had been frightful, within the wake of winning partner degreed yelling for some of your time a finally completed that it had been futile and began my day, I went down and had a breakfast for no smart reason I disdain bodily process at the morning it primarily harms conifer State, i do not secure why, around then I equipped and took my necessary Jessica to the gifted specialist you understand the on a daily basis set up, i actually had a very attention-grabbing chat with the metal cheat, he lit conifer State with regard to his woman and her sweetheart that's bothering as code word, which

Blood was running down her arm from the gaping wound in her palm and the women began to wash the mask of clay and blood from her face, pushing her raven locks back from her face, exposing the near perfect alabaster skin of her face. Without the war paint, her face was almost angelic. Deep blue eyes were framed by high cheekbones and a slender nose that ended in small, pursed lips. Her body was muscular, marred and molded from months of stealthy battle and thievery. Her breasts were pert and sat high on her chest, only the carved 'A' marring the perfect

Touched by fading moonlight, the girl looked pale as a ghost, distressed and sorrowful. Great drops fell from her eyes; the heavy rain clouds in her mind let loose their turbulent nature. She felt the muscle of her chin trembled like a small child, again, she looked toward the window as if the darkness outside could soothe her. However, she tried to keep her sobbing down by biting her lips, afraid the woman would “visit” again. Meanwhile, in the hallway, there was only deadly silence, creating an overwhelming sense of emptiness.